


Something Worse Than Fear

by agirlnamedtruth



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dreams, F/M, Sexual Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-18
Updated: 2011-11-18
Packaged: 2017-10-26 06:24:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/279724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agirlnamedtruth/pseuds/agirlnamedtruth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lover100 Table; 048 Nightmare.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Worse Than Fear

She’d always had nightmares; the other girls told her so. They told her about her tossing and turning, crying out in her sleep, even screaming sometimes. But they understood, after what she’d been through. Not that they knew the full story but they knew she had some pretty good fuel for bad dreams.

When she’d been younger, they really had been nightmares. But now she was older, they weren’t so much terrifying as unsettling. Now she cried out for different reasons. The way she rationalised it was that it was her way of coping. She was taking something terrifying and finding a way to make it less so. Turning it into something she could control.

So now when he’d chase her through darkness, trying to get inside her mind, she’d turn on him and grab him by his hair. It was her nightmare, she could do what she wanted, things she’d never do while awake. She‘d pull his head back and bite at his neck, not leaving marks because he wasn’t real. She’d push him to the floor and straddle him, dirty wet stone scraping her bare knees. She’d rip at his old fashioned robes and claw at his skin, feeling like something primal was vicariously living through her. Maybe it was that little piece of him that would always live inside her, yearning to make her do bad things to set him free. She’d grind against him, never letting him inside her, not properly, until pleasure ripped through her body so violently that it woke her from her nightmare. She told herself that the sweat on her skin and her ragged breath was out of fear and not out of something much more frightening.


End file.
